


Birgitte and You

by TMSharp819



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMSharp819/pseuds/TMSharp819
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your dreams of being with Birgitte is in no way as wonderful as reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birgitte and You

You are waiting in line at the meet and greet. Your palms are sweating. Your heart is racing. 5 people are in front of you, keeping you from meeting your celebrity crush. You're the last one in line for the day. The blonde haired, blue eyed 33 year old Danish woman that has taken over your life since the second she stepped on the screen in Pitch Perfect 2. This is it. This is your chance to tell her that you love her. Even though you're just a fan, you hope she takes it to heart.

"You are stunning mäuschen." You're pretty sure that you died waiting in line. There is no way that Birgitte just called you stunning. You're either dreaming or you're dead, but there is no way that she just told you that. "Mäuschen? Are you all right? Would you like a glass of water?" Birgitte reaches out, and gently touches your arm, making you very aware that this is not a dream.

"I... I....," you stumble over your words, realizing all too clearly that you're not making any sense. You have turned into the real life Beca Mitchell. Calm yourself, breathe, try again. "I love you. I feel like I'm Beca Mitchell because you're frustrating me with your tantalizing legs, your blue eyes that I'm getting lost in, and -" You stop yourself from saying anything more. These words were only supposed to be in your head, and on Tumblr, not to her. This gorgeous specimen, this human that has made you entirely sure that you're gay. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blurt that, I just, I...."

"Breathe, mäuschen. I realize that people do this in front of celebrities. May I presume that I might be your.... celebrity crush," Birgitte asks you, cocking her eyebrow up. Doing that thing with her face that turns you to a puddle. You just nod, fearing what word vomit would come out next. "Would you like to have a one on one meet and greet with me back at my hotel? I'm free until tomorrow." 

Was Birgitte hinting at something? No, she couldn't be. Could she? I'm not turning it down, that's for sure. "Ja, I would love that." Did I really just say ja? She's gonna think I'm stupid.

"Come," she reaches out for your hand. "Let's go back to my room, ja?"

I'm in her room. Holy shit I'm in her room

"Excuse me for a moment, I feel so still in this outfit my publicist makes me wear." She leaves you alone while she changes in the bathroom, leaving the door open. You can't help but see her changing in the mirror. Looking away seems too difficult right now.

"If you're going to keep staring at me, you might as well help me out of these clothes. They're a bit of a struggle."

You sit there, frozen, letting the words sink into your mind. Did she just suggest that? What am I still doing sitting here? I could be in there....

How did I get in the bathroom? How are my hands unzipping her dress? Oh god, she's not wearing a bra. This is how I die, staring at her perfectly toned back.

Birgitte turns around, slipping off her dress, facing you. Teasing you with each passing second. You gulp because your throat is so dry. She moves her lips to your ear. "It helps to breathe. Especially for what's about to happen next."

Before you have time to think she has you on the counter, ripping off your sweater. She practically tears you tank top in half, and you don't even care. All you know is, you are sitting on a counter in Birgitte's hotel room, wearing nothing but a bra and shorts, and all she's wearing is her underwear. You can already feel your underwear getting wetter by the second.

Before another thought passes through your mind, her lips are on yours. You can't help but moan because she tastes like strawberries. You bite her lip, hearing her moan at your touch. What choice do you have, but to grab her breasts. Rubbing her hardened buds. In 5 seconds, Birgitte has you out of you bra and pants, and is carrying you to the bed. She throws you onto it. Crawling her way up to you from the edge of it. She really was much like a cat.

"I want you," she pauses, making you think that is all she was meaning to say, "to cum until you pass out, so you better not have any plans tonight. You will indeed be missing them." With that, she is biting and sucking your neck. She moves further down your body at an agonizingly slow speed. She's meticulous. She's leaving marks everywhere she goes.

You feel yourself already getting close, and then her hot breath is on one of your breasts. Playing with the opposite nipple with her, while leaving claw marks up your side.

"I... I'm gonna-" is all you can say before your first orgasm hits you.

"That's one," she whispers seductively, "but it is definitely not the last." She decides to do that same on the other side, hoping to get the same response. She is quite happy to find that your orgasm came as just a hard of force as the first.

She moves down to your underwear, pulling them off with her teeth, scratching your inner thighs while pulling them down. You can't help but scream in pleasure as another wave hits you.

"I haven't even gotten to the best part mäuschen."

Before your brain could function properly, her mouth was on your clit. Moving her tongue in ways you could never, in your wildest dreams, imagine.

"Birgitte, I'm gonna - OH!" This woman has a way with her tongue.

Your thoughts are cut off by Birgitte slipping 2 fingers into your core. She shoves them in hard, and pulls them out slowly, moving a little quicker with each pump. Still moving her tongue in her skilled ways. Moving faster and faster. Your throat is so dry from all the heavy breathing and screaming, and you don't care because this is actually happening. This isn't some elaborate dream anymore.

After 5 hours of a constant stream of orgasms, a nearly broken lamp, that you tried latching onto, making it fall instead, 10 poundings on the wall from neighbors who were thoroughly pissed off, and one very dry throat, you can finally say, "I had sex with Birgitte Hjort Sørensen, and I can hardly move thanks to her."


End file.
